


uncertainty in the worst of times

by 4wholecats



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon
Genre: Gen, Post Minerva and Michalis's battle, Prompt: Shackled, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26858164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: Michalis awakens to the sound of crying. A little girl, probably.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959316
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	uncertainty in the worst of times

Michalis awakens to the sound of crying. A little girl, probably.

The weight on his chest moves as someone buries their nose in the fabric of his shirt. Their shifting brings his attention to the pain that has settled there, deep and uneven. He doesn’t shove them off though. His arms feel too heavy to be moved in such a way just yet. 

He does groan though, and as Maria’s tear-filled eyes meet his, he feels... 

He feels bad. Guilty even.

“Michalis!” Maria yelps as she straightens up on her stool, wiping tears and snot off her scrunched face with her sleeve. She tackles his head, mumble-shouting incoherently into his hair, exacerbating his headache and nearly choking him. He indulges her babbling for a moment, before nudging her shoulder out of his face with his nose.

“-and I was so scared-” She’s crying still, and it’s an ugly, wet cry that makes his heart ache. 

He wants to put a hand on the back of her head, to wrap an arm around her shaking shoulders, to hold her and assure her of… well he wasn’t sure yet… but the heaviness was no less present than before. He would have to turn towards his old nemesis for assistance here. The power of words.

“Maria…” His voice is a croak, so he clears his throat and tries again. 

“Maria… where are we…” 

He waits for her to sit up. She does so slowly, reluctant to release his shoulders from her protective grasp. She sniffles, face as red as her mussed hair. 

“We-” she pauses to hiccup “we’re in a village… uh. A few days away from the castle. Someone was nice enough to-” another sniffle “-lend us a room for a bit. So I could heal you.”

“You… you didn’t have to.” Bless her good heart, she shouldn’t have been on the battlefield in the first place.

“I  _ wanted _ to though… You were up there  _ killing _ each other and I was so scared…”

Maria’s eyebrows scrunch together, and when she meets his gaze, it’s with the full force of an angry child that knows she’s been wronged. 

“Why would you do that!? Why would you let Dohlr do such horrible things to our country!? Let them convince you to act like-” She pauses, clearly thinking of a stinging insult to fling at him. “-like an  _ asshole _ .”

Oh, Maria had inherited her sister’s sharp tongue. Well, as sharp as a ten year old’s tongue ought to be. Michalis was biting down much worse curses at this very moment, the pain from his aching body distracting him and grounding him at the same time. 

He wants to argue. 

He wants to bite back with scathing questions of his own. He wants to find Minerva, tackle her to the ground, and hit her until her bones shatter beneath his fists. He wants to…  _ he wants to- _

He looks into Maria’s eyes. Her betrayed, angry, questioning eyes. 

And suddenly, Michalis wants to make sure that Maria never has to deal with something like this ever again. 

He stows his vitriol. Minerva could be dealt with later.

The gears in his head grind, trying to put together an apology that would make sense. 

“Maria… I don’t expect you to…  _ forgive _ me… for any of this,” he speaks slowly, choosing words carefully, “but I can promise you… that I will  _ never _ … attempt anything like  _ this _ again.”

“What do you mean by ‘this’?”

“Uh...”

What did he mean? Murdering their father? Well, they only had the one, so obviously that wouldn’t happen again. The forceful takeover of a country? The aching bruises combined with Maria’s tear-streaked face made the idea of ruling Macedon, at least in the near future, unappetizing at best. He was still on the fence about hunting Minerva for sport, but even that was looking less and less appealing by the second. 

“All of it. I’m sorry I put you through all of it.” It was vague, but Maria’s face softens a fraction. He’s worried that it won’t be enough, that she’s still upset, and of course she has every right to be, but-

“Okay,” her response is quiet, and she sniffles again, “I’m gonna hold you to that. Forever.”

Something in Michalis uncoils, and it brings with it a flooding sensation of relief. 

The former king of Macedon lifts his hand to pull her into a hug, but the weight hasn’t disappeared, despite the fact that he is now fully awake. He looks down his long nose at the blurry shapes that were his arms.  _ When had he started crying? _

His hands aren’t heavy, but the heavy shackles around his wrists are. His eyes follow the chain that trails from one of the heavy cuffs and under the bed, before peeking out on the other side to connect to it’s twin. Maria takes hold of his hand with both of her own, realizing his dilemma. 

“The, uh… the villagers said that we could only use this room if they could be sure that you wouldn’t try to escape or anything… I think they… Well. They’re a little afraid, after all the stuff Dohlr has been doing.”

Michalis lets out a puff of angry air, but doesn’t say anything. Repercussions. Deserved repercussions.

“You shouldn’t be moving around anyways… I healed your wounds, but you need rest.” Maria grips his hand tightly, and he runs his thumb over her knuckles.

“Rest… yes,” he mumbles. 

The ache is pervasive now, pulling him back down into exhaustion. Maria pulls a blanket over his body before wrapping herself up in another. The wool is scratchy against the bandaged skin of his chest, clearly belonging to the owner of this shack and not the princess herself. The sentiment is warmer than the blanket, but he doesn’t attempt to kick it off.

As he closes his eyes, he hears the scratch of chair legs against a wooden floor, and feels the weight of a head settling against the crook of his neck. Michalis takes a steady, calming, thought sorting breath. Maria isn’t going anywhere. 

And at least for the time being, neither is he.

**Author's Note:**

> am i going to do the whole challenge? i have no idea. and i going to do one every day? fuck no. am i gonna have fun? hell yes.


End file.
